


Impulse Power

by elaiel, jdjunkie, Perfica, Princess of Geeks (Princess), Sid



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Angst, First Time, M/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-22
Updated: 2013-06-22
Packaged: 2017-12-15 18:06:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/852468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elaiel/pseuds/elaiel, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdjunkie/pseuds/jdjunkie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Perfica/pseuds/Perfica, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princess/pseuds/Princess%20of%20Geeks, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sid/pseuds/Sid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daniel acts out of character, and Jack doesn't realize it until too late.  How can Jack ever explain what happened without giving away his feelings?  And how can he forget what happened, and lock those feelings away.  Again.</p>
<p><a href="http://arboreal-gate.dreamwidth.org/8348.html">Co-written</a> in the Arboreal Gate community at Dreamwidth.</p>
<p>sid_fan is also a co-author.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impulse Power

**Impulse Power**

Jack couldn't even begin to count the number of times he'd sat side by side with Daniel on this couch. However many, he'd never expected _this_ to happen. Oh, he'd thought about it, sure. Wishful-type thinking, pure and simple. Daniel's affection was clear, his bisexuality documented, but Daniel's likely reaction if Jack ever made a move on him had been guesswork. Jack didn't think he ever would've risked the friendship, even if other things like responsibilities and oaths hadn't been holding him back.

Tonight, there was evidently no holding Daniel back.

He'd showed up unannounced, which was unusual but not unheard of, with a book in his hand, which was typical. The book was still lying on the coffee table, untouched. Jack was what Daniel wanted to touch tonight. He'd begun by touching Jack's hand as Jack reached for the remote. The TV set still remained dark and silent, over in the corner of the room. Daniel, on the other hand, was currently making quite a lot of noise.

He'd touched Jack's hand, Jack's arm, Jack's shoulder, Jack's nape. And, since Daniel had two hands, he'd also touched Jack's face, his chest, and his knee. Slid one hand up his thigh, his tongue slid into Jack's mouth. Cupped him through his slacks when Jack hardened instantly.

It was the greatest first kiss of Jack's life. Daniel had a knack, a passion, an agile tongue and sweet, sweet lips. He was irresistible and Jack never even thought of resisting. Who resists a dream coming true? He'd been lifting his hand from where it had fallen on Daniel's chest during his first startled reaction, when Daniel had broken off their kiss, grabbed Jack's hand and pressed it hard against the bulge in his jeans. "This is what you do to me."

His voice and the look in his eyes made Jack shiver.

"Will you suck me?" It was phrased as a question, but one to which there was only one possible answer. "I'm dying to have you suck me. I've always…" Daniel brushed his thumb along Jack's lower lip.

Jack had slid off the couch onto his knees, undoing Daniel's fly with trembling fingers and working his cock free. It had been an incredibly long time since Jack had held a man this way, tasted him, felt that silken slide against his tongue and the roof of his mouth, but he hadn't forgotten how it was done and Daniel's strong hands and occasional sharp whisper guided him, telling him when to linger, when to speed up, when to use more tongue, when to suck harder.

All the while Daniel moaned, his pleasure and excitement given voice but unspoken. Daniel, nearly wordless. Just the way Jack had always imagined it would be.

A strangled roar and Daniel was coming, warm and bitter and thick on Jack's tongue as he swallowed desperately. Daniel's entire body shook with his second spurt. The third was weaker, accompanied by a sigh. His hands patted Jack, stroked his hair, massaged his scalp. Jack took it as encouragement to stay right where he was and continue with what he was doing, sucking slowly and gently, licking softly, cleaning Daniel, swallowing every last precious drop.

He was so hard he ached.

"I think you should fuck me now, don't you?"

Somehow Jack got himself up off the floor and Daniel carefully zipped away and up off the couch, got them both up the stairs and headed down the hallway towards the bedroom, but it wasn't easy. Daniel wasn't making it easy. Daniel kept nuzzling Jack's neck, nibbling his ear, groping his ass. Not that Jack was complaining. He was practically purring. He'd just like to make it to the bedroom before he came in his pants.

Daniel had just come, of course, so the same urgency wasn't there for him. No slackening of desire, though, Jack was happy to see. Daniel was eager and excited, even if his next hard-on was probably a good half hour away. Or… possibly less, if Jack wasn't imagining what he was feeling against his hip right now.

Oh, no, not imagining anything. Solid evidence there, pushing against his own solid desire as Daniel detoured abruptly to back Jack up against his front door. Talk about a rock and a hard place. Talk about the imminent need to do laundry. Or, don't talk. Kiss instead, yeah, wet and hot, with plenty of tongue action. Jack had never had such an active tongue take up residence in his mouth before, and he gave a shiver as he thought about all the other things that tongue might do, could do. Would do, if he was lucky, and Jack was feeling pretty damn lucky.

Daniel was, too, going by the words that came pouring out of him as he lifted his head and grinned at Jack. "I want to run and jump on the furniture."

"Please don't." Jack couldn't help a glow of pride.

"I want to dance on the roof."

"The neighbors will talk." Jack nipped at Daniel's jaw. "You lunatic."

"You've been driving me crazy, but not any more. Not any more. I feel bold."

"You were certainly bold on the couch." Jack could never have made the first move, but the first move had been made, and now, sweet Jesus, here they were. Jack rubbed Daniel's ass and ground his cock against him.

"I feel powerful." But Daniel's voice cracked as he said it, and Jack felt the arms that held him begin to shake.

"Daniel?"

Daniel tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. The arch of his neck shone with sweat that hadn't been there a minute ago. "Let's go up on the roof. I promise not to dance." His head kept tilting, his shoulders followed, his hands left Jack.

Jack grabbed for his wrists, but they were slick with sweat, too, and Daniel curved towards the floor until his legs crumpled and he fell in a heap. After a second of shock, Jack was on his knees, fumbling for his cell with one hand and Daniel's pulse with the other. It pounded insistently against his fingertips.

Jack could still feel it, a phantom rhythm held within his clenched fist, as he leaned against the outer wall of the infirmary forty minutes later and fought down a rising tide of shame.

His first thought, his first reaction when he realized something was seriously wrong, hadn't been concern for Daniel. It had been distress as the truth rushed at him, hit him like a freight train, that nothing that had happened that night had been real. Daniel was ill and everything Daniel had said or done was made null and void.

Even as Daniel fell, Jack had grieved the loss of his dream.

~~~~

Doc Fraiser herself came out to him, another hour and two cups of coffee later.

Whispers had spread, like they always did when any part of SG-1 was admitted. An orderly had brought Jack one of those uncomfortable plastic chairs -- hadn't even made eye contact, just brought it and set it next to where he was leaning, one knee locked, the other bent, against the wall, set it down so gently there wasn't even a click to mark the legs touching the concrete.

A cafeteria worker brought him a coffee not ten minutes later. An airman brought him another a half hour after that.

Jack was sitting with his head in his hands, mutely grateful, when Fraiser touched his shoulder.

"Is he awake?" Jack said, sitting up straight.

"No. But he's stable. His fever is coming down and his vitals are back where they should be. I need to talk to you about the onset of his symptoms."

Jack looked down, willing himself not to blush. He failed.

Fraiser's hand hadn't left his shoulder. "You arrived home from PR3-191 about noon yesterday, yes? And from the debriefing notes, it was routine. Boring, even."

Her voice was gentle, but professionally urging him to say more, to fill in the blanks.

Jack took a deep breath, steeling himself to meet her eyes. "Your office. Please."

As he stood up and turned to go back inside, there was Teal'c, looking alert and neat in his black t-shirt, his BDU pants correctly stuffed into his boots. Not a hair out of place, if he'd had hair.

"Daniel Jackson is ill?" he said, glancing between them.

"Sit with him, if you want. While I talk to the doc here."

Teal'c bowed, and followed him in.

Only then did it occur to Jack to wonder why whatever had happened to Daniel hadn't happened to him. Teal'c's apparent health could be explained, as so many things were, by Junior. But why was Jack okay, if Daniel had been whammied by some kind of alien sex pollen or something? He racked his brain to remember what they'd eaten, what they'd touched. And his eyebrows went up and he stared at Janet.

"Someone needs to check on Carter. Maybe she's sick too."

Fraiser got that questioning, weighing look, but she didn't stop. She went before him, her heels clicking briskly despite the lateness of the hour, and stopped at the first wall phone she came to. She gave the order for an off-base check on Major Carter.

Jack went on past her to her familiar but usually unpleasant office. A photo of Cassie and the team was blown up to eight by ten size on the wall. Jack looked at it, trying not to think, letting his back brain do all the work until he had to face the music.

Fraiser came in and sat down at her desk and drew her keyboard toward her. Not a handwriter, the doc. Computers and efficiency all the way.

Daniel, now. Daniel would be taking notes by hand, in a leather bound book or on a yellow legal pad. It stabbed him again, what had happened.

"Colonel?" Fraiser said gently, bring him back to the moment.

He folded his hands on the desk, like a kid at school. He had a bruise on his left thumbnail that he didn't remember getting.

"Daniel came over to my place earlier tonight. It's typical for us to get together after missions -- have some pizza, watch a game, unwind. But this was different. He... he made a pass at me."

Fraiser had only typed one sentence of summary, and she didn't flinch or even look surprised, but she looked up at him, her face carefully blank. Her quiet key-tapping paused.

"He was.... happy. Giddy, even. Talking about dancing on the roof. I didn't think much of it, of what he was saying, until he passed out, and I could see how sweaty he was, how high his temperature must have gotten in a short time."

"I need to know a little more about what he did, and about what you saw."

She didn't have to add the "I'm sorry." But he knew it was there.

He wanted to fix his gaze on his bruise. But he met her eyes, made himself speak calmly.

"He didn't say much at first. He touched me. Invited contact. I went with it. I was surprised, but I went along. I...." No. She didn't need to know about his motivations, his delight, his relief. She needed to know about Daniel.

"He made suggestions, about the kind of sex we should have. I went along. Was happy to go along. Before we'd gotten to the end of his list, he passed out."

"There was sexual contact. Orgasm."

"Yes. On his part." Jack closed his eyes, grateful for her matter of fact tone. God, if it had been Warner on duty? The shock of who he could be having to tell this to made him even more willing to meet her half way. Because it could have been Warner, on second shift on this Tuesday night. Not Fraiser.

Jack made himself meet her eyes, adopt her calm tone. "He wanted oral sex. He wanted me to go down on him. I did. He climaxed. We were on our way to the bedroom for more sex when he passed out."

"Thank you, colonel. I know this is difficult," she said, looking at the screen again, typing steadily. "Any and all information I can get about how Daniel acted will help me help him."

"I know that. Thank you, doc. I'm glad it's you sitting here."

Her smiling was fleeting but real.

"He seemed like himself. Flushed, maybe, a little happier than normal. But I could put that down to the nature of what we were doing. Maybe I should have questioned that he'd approach me like that in the first place. But I didn't."

She reached out, then, touched his wrist, just briefly, but he knew what she meant.

Was it that obvious? What Daniel did to him? Was to him? He couldn't worry about that now.

The phone on Fraiser's desk rang.

"Fraiser," she said, and then she listened. "Thank you, Sergeant. Yes, if she's willing to come in now for an examination, instead of waiting until morning, I would definitely advise it.... Yes, please drive her yourself. Tell her I said so.... Thank you. See you soon."

She hung up. She took a breath, and turned to Jack.

"Sam experienced some... unusual events, for her. She's fine. But she's coming in to let me look at her."

Jack's eyes got wide. He knew what that meant. Carter had gone out, gone bar hopping or something. Picked up some guy who had a Harley and way too much horsepower.

Shit.

What in the hell would he say to Daniel when Daniel woke up? What would Daniel say to him?

More coffee. He needed more coffee.

He followed Fraiser back out into the infirmary lobby. She turned to him, about to go check on Daniel and get a bed prepped for Carter, but she said, "Stay on base, colonel. If you would."

"Sure, doc. Just going to get some coffee."

She pursed her lips and put a hand on his arm. "Why don't you sit down by Daniel instead? Teal'c can go get you some. Or, I do have a private stash."

He frowned. He wanted to get away, for a moment, get some distance. But maybe she was right.

"Whatever you say."

And she patted his arm and headed left. He put his hands behind his back and headed right, to relieve Teal'c, or join him, in keeping vigil.

~~

Daniel looked the way Jack had seen him way too often in here -- that is, hooked up to wires and monitors, a cannula against his nose. He was pale, as pale as he'd been flushed before. Jack glanced at the monitor. His pulse was back down, as was his temperature. Jack made himself look at Daniel's face -- his slightly puffy lips, his messy hair. His closed eyelids were bruised, almost purple.

Still. He looked so dear to Jack; so beloved. Jack shook his head. He wished there was something he could do. It was horrible to just sit here, doing nothing, not knowing what weird poison was running in Daniel's veins. He put his hand on Daniel's wrist, just for a minute, and then pulled up a chair and sat down.

Teal'c was a silent presence across the bed. His expression barely changed, but Jack could read the question easily.

"Fraiser thinks he might have picked up something on that planet, had a delayed reaction. Did he eat anything? Did you? Did Carter?"

Daniel and Carter had split off, to go see the natives' central auditorium cum city hall. Teal'c and Jack had walked the perimeter of the village. It had been nothing, a no go. No technology, no trinium, nothing interesting. The only naquadah what was in the Stargate, the only tools at a medieval level. They'd been there barely three hours.

"Major Carter did not mention ingesting anything when I spoke with her after our return. Nor did Daniel Jackson. But we were separated for some time. I ate and drank nothing while we were there."

Jack shook his head. He leaned toward the bed, his elbows on his knees. Daniel looked terrible. Jack found his gaze drawn again to Daniel's mouth -- that sweet, sweet mouth, which only a few hours ago, Jack had had permission to kiss. Daniel had wanted him. Had it really all been a lie?

"I require water. Do you wish me to bring you anything, O'Neill?"

"Some coffee, T., thanks. If you're going that way anyway."

"Please stay with Daniel Jackson until I return."

"Sure."

Daniel's eyes fluttered, or maybe it was Jack's imagination. He leaned closer, put a hand on the skin of Daniel's forearm where it lay, so helpless, on top of the thin covers. Daniel might be cold; he was always cold even when the rest of the team was comfortable. Jack squeezed his arm. It felt all right. Maybe Fraiser'd had the nurse put socks on him. She knew his tendencies as well as Jack did.

Well. Almost.

That face. Those lips. God. Unwillingly, Jack flashed back to those moments in his hall, on the couch, when Daniel had wanted him. Had let Jack give him pleasure. God. If he didn't look out, he'd get a boner just thinking about it, right here in the infirmary.

Jack shivered, ran a hand over his face. Put that hand next to the other, carefully cupping Daniel's arm.

A bustle, voices, behind him.

It was Carter, escorted by a sergeant whose name Jack couldn't recall. She was wearing jeans and a halter top and had her leather jacket over her arm. Tall sandals Jack had never seen. Her toenails were painted.

Janet was smiling, patting her on the shoulder and pulling a curtain around. The sergeant saluted Fraiser and left. Two nurses hovered unobtrusively outside the curtain. Male. Large. A female nurse slipped inside with Fraiser.

Fraiser'd get to the bottom of it, whatever it was....

Jack rubbed the back of his neck and turned his attention back to Daniel. He put a hand to his cheek and leaned closer. Poor guy. He didn't deserve this. He deserved a vacation, all the books he could read, a beach somewhere. No. Daniel wouldn't want a beach vacation. He'd get too hot. Sweat all over his books. Somewhere cool, like the Springs, but better. Somewhere with culture, with museums. Jack would give him that. If he could. Jack would give him.... everything.

Jack started, pulling himself back from nuzzling Daniel's neck and sitting up straight. He was still gripping Daniel's arm. He didn't want to let go. It was hard, but he was so... hot. He had to get out of this shirt. It was a flannel shirt he'd thrown on over his t-shirt, on the way out the door to get Daniel to help. He was hot. Sweat was running down his neck.

He had to help Daniel; couldn't leave him... wanted...

Oh. Shit.

"Doc!" Jack wailed, and then everything went dark, and there was nothing but the drag of the familiar weave of Daniel's blanket against his cheek.

~~~~  
Everything was black and he smelled water. Outside water, with fish and algae and God knew what else in it. Jack blinked his eyes open. A lake. Not his lake and not his boat and whose shoulder was he leaning on? He looked up to meet those eyes that could only belong to Daniel.

He sat up. "Daniel?"

"Jack."

"Where the hell are we?"

"Boston."

Jack looked around. "Swan boats?"

"Or the infirmary. Whatever you want. It's your hallucination."

"I want you, Daniel."

"I know, Jack."

Then there was a loud beeping in his ears and the black took him again.

~~~~

"I just need to take some blood, Colonel." It was Janet's voice, breaking in on his dream.

He could feel hands on his arm, a sharp prick which burned so sweetly...

...fingers gripping his skin...

He writhed against the sheets.

"Can you hold him down?"

More hands on him, and it was good...so good...

"Okay, that's good."

Everything was sensitive, sensation and pleasure overloading him, fingers on his arms and legs, fabric against skin...

"Jack?"

A hand touched his face, gentle and soft. In the moment between the touch and a bright light being shone in his eye, he surged upwards in orgasm, eyes clenched tight as pleasure wracked him.

The blackness swallowed him again.

~~~~

When Jack came to again, the infirmary didn't have that sharp-edged, skeleton-staff feeling of late nights. The subtle cues that let him know it was day-shift, probably late morning, weren't something he could list without knitting his brow, but they were there. Bright lights. A smell of off-shift people's soup and meat loaf. Less stale coffee. More antiseptic. More alcohol. More floor cleaner.

He stared at the ceiling. He felt like he'd been run over by a truck. He pulled his hand up, surprised to find himself attached to a needle, the needle attached to a tube, the tube to a bag on a stand. He scrubbed his hair. It had that crackly, stuck-together, after-fever smell.

He looked left. There was a curtain. He was sure, somehow, that Daniel was behind it. He looked right, down a row of beds, to Teal'c in conversation with Fraiser, at the end of the row. Teal'c glanced his way, and started toward him. Fraiser followed.

How long had he been out? What had happened?

Fragments of memory returned, as he scrubbed the heel of his hand over his eyes. He'd come here with Daniel -- that was clear. Too clear. Then, he'd been sitting by Daniel and he'd... he'd passed out. Then he'd.... dreamed. A good dream. Too good.

Shit.

He raised his head, looked at himself. He wasn't in the clothes he'd worn from home. He'd been changed into scrubs.

He glanced up. Teal'c and Fraiser were standing at his bedside. They were both frowning.

"How do you feel, Colonel?" Fraiser asked him. She had a clipboard.

"Like I have the world's worst hangover. Also, embarrassed. Please tell me I didn't."

"On the contrary. You did," Teal'c said, unruffled.

"Based on what Sam and Daniel were able to tell us, we think we've isolated the substance that is causing the three of you to react this way."

"Oh good," Jack said. Then it caught up with him; what Fraiser had said.

"Daniel's awake?"

"Oh yes," came the rueful voice from behind the curtain.

"Daniel?"

"Jack?"

"You okay?"

"Um. In a manner of speaking."

Teal'c stepped over, his hand on the separating curtain.

"Wait," Daniel said. Jack hoped he was imagining the embarrassment in Daniel's voice. "Just a second, Teal'c. Please."

Nope. Not imagining.

He turned to Fraiser. Putting off the moment of truth, since Daniel wanted to, it seemed. He ignored the icy grip on his heart. Probably lingering traces of... whatever it was. "How's Carter?"

Fraiser hesitated.

Shit.

"She's fine. Recovering." Jack watched as she visibly wrote her next few sentences, rehearsed them, checked them for appropriateness and ethics, in a split two seconds. All by looking up and to the right. Then she met his eyes again and gave that mechanical smile. "Her case is similar to Daniel's, not to yours. It will be up to her to tell you anything further. What I can say is that she'll be fine. I sent her to a VIP suite." Fraiser turned to Teal'c with a distinct air of relief. "She agreed to let Teal'c check on her."

He bowed, and with a glance at Jack, walked unhurriedly toward the exit. Jack followed him with his eyes, wishing he, too, could escape.

Fraiser was still standing there.

"So Daniel's okay too?"

"Yes." Fraiser's answer was firm and unhesitating. Small mercies.

"And am I okay?"

"I'm still running tests. But provisionally, yes."

Jack tried to sit up, on the strength of that 'provisionally', but Fraiser pushed at his shoulder.

"Not so fast! I'm keeping all of you under observation for at least twenty-four hours. Longer if you don't cooperate. As you know, uncharacteristic behavior is one of the most obvious symptoms." She mock frowned at him. Jack sighed, but let her push him down again, and take his wrist to check his pulse, even though she had access to the monitor's blinking green stats, right there.

"I'll leave you alone, then. Stay put." She patted him. The 'you two alone' was unspoken but obvious. She went around the foot of Jack's bed to the curtain. She leaned forward, which hid her head from Jack and revealed it to Daniel. Jack had the sense of a hidden conversation, perhaps mostly conveyed by eyebrows. But in a moment, she nodded, and pulled the curtain back in one big effortless swoop -- long practice.

The hooks in the ceiling swished in a metallic crescendo that mirrored the sudden roaring in Jack's ears.

And then Fraiser's high heels were click-click-clicking away, and he was face to face with Daniel. Lying down. Both of them. It was like a flashback. Only. Not.

Jack felt the weight of Daniel's eyes on him.

"I was wondering when you'd wake up," Daniel said. "It's been quiet."

"In between all the poking and prodding and the nurses and -- "

"Well, yeah," Daniel agreed with a wry smile. "In between all that."

Jack eased himself up onto the pillows stacked carefully under his head, digging in his shoulders and heels for leverage. Once seated comfortably, he smoothed out the blankets across his knees, tugging at imaginary wrinkles. He knew it was avoidant behavior and he knew Daniel knew it was avoidant behavior. He gave himself the brief luxury of silence; he didn't think he was ready to have the conversation that needed to happen.

From the corner of his eye he saw Daniel push at the bridge of his glasses, sniff, scratch his nose. Seems like he wasn't the only one avoiding.

"So, ah, thanks for saving my life," Daniel said, wryly. "Janet said my fever was high. Dangerously brain-meltingly high was her considered medical opinion. It's lucky I was with you when it happened."

Jack shrugged, nodding briefly at an orderly pushing a cart of clanging instruments past the foot of their beds. "You would have done the same for me."

"I would have," Daniel said, leaning sideways, elbow resting precariously close to a carafe of water on the table beside his bed. "Jack, you've got to know I would have -- "

"Bygones," Jack said. He didn't want to hear about what Daniel would or wouldn't have done. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how inappropriate his actions had been. Hell, they were way past inappropriate. Going down on a member of his team just because, what, it was a Tuesday? Giving in so easily to what had obviously been unusual behavior? Ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that had wondered at the ease of their union, the sweetness of Daniel's kisses, the almost dreamlike perfection of getting his one true wish without having to work for it, without having to angst over it?

Screw inappropriate. What he'd done was plain selfishness.

"I need to get out of here," Jack said under his breath.

Daniel watched him with a silence and a stillness that was completely un-Daniel-like and Jack hoped that he'd let whatever was going on in that grand mind of his go.

But Daniel obviously hadn't lost his ability to read Jack's mind, even when Jack himself didn't know what was going on in it. "I could really do with a shower," he said, rubbing the hair on the back of his head. "I feel -- I don't know, not myself. Not really. Not yet. And I want to see Sam. I only got to talk to her for a second when Janet released her. She…wasn't really herself, either. I don't know exactly what happened to her but I hope...I hope she's okay. With it. Whatever it was."

"Me too," Jack said. "You too. I don't know how I'll make it up to you. I don't know how to explain -- ."

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," Daniel said, eyes widening behind his glasses. "Now's obviously not the time but -- "

"General Hammond," Jack said loudly. "Glad you could make it. Pull up a chair; I've ordered our entrees, you just need to decide what dressing you want on your salad."

Hammond shook his head, a bemused yet relieved expression on his face. He tapped his fingers against the rail at the foot of Jack's bed. "Well, Jack, if you're joking, then I guess you're okay. Doctor Fraiser seems to think it's passed, whatever it was. I look forward to hearing your report. I never know what the Sam Hill SG-1 are getting up to on a good day. "

Not for the first time, Jack blessed the military machinations that had gifted the SGC with George Hammond as its commanding officer. The man was a natural leader whose gut-deep goodness allowed him to command with an enviable mixture of discipline and humor.

Jack made all the right noises about feeling better, about being certain they would all be fine and that Fraiser would come up with all the answers. And Hammond made all the right noises in response.

But time and again, Jack’s eyes strayed to Daniel, to where he was sitting up in bed, anxious, frustrated at having had their conversation cut short. Only Daniel’s face betrayed his feelings. His body remained unnaturally still, like he was holding something in, maybe holding himself together by force of will.

While half of Jack’s brain held the as-yet unvoiced conversation with Daniel, the rest played the good 2IC with Hammond.

He knew, though, that Hammond felt all the undercurrents of uncertainty Jack didn't articulate, and he knew his CO was deliberately not asking questions that would very soon demand answers. Hammond was granting him time, and Jack was reminded again why he would walk through fire for this man.

"We'll talk later, Jack," Hammond said, fixing him with a level gaze before smiling and nodding at Daniel and leaving.

Jack kept his eyes on the infirmary entrance long after Hammond had gone. The silence in the room was oppressive, very unlike the companionable quiet that usually characterized the times when he and Daniel were in a room together, on base or off.

“I’m going to check on Carter,” Jack said, needing to be away from the bed, from Daniel, from everything that needed to be said. He punched his way out of the bedclothes, hunted down his clothes and punched his way into them.

“Jack,” Daniel said, softly, halting him in his tracks. He couldn’t turn around. There were a hundred things Daniel could say right now and Jack wasn’t sure he could deal with any of them. “Give Sam my love.”

“Sure,” Jack said, voice clipped.

All Business.

All Colonel All The Time.

He hoped to god Fraiser would come up with answers to help explain all this. He sure as hell had none of his own. He took a deep breath of recycled air and headed for the VIP suite. Anywhere had to be better than here.

Proceeding cautiously over a floor that felt a little unsteady under his feet, Jack made it to the elevators without being seen. As he pushed the button, he realized that he had no idea which suite Carter had been assigned. When the doors opened, he hesitated for a second, then stepped through. He gave the floor button a frustrated jab. There was no way he was going back to ask Fraiser; she'd only dump his ass back into bed. And post an SF or two to make sure that her orders to stay put were followed this time. He'd just have to knock on every damned door until he found her, that was all.

He squared his shoulders as he stepped off the elevator and turned left down the hallway. Hopefully all the rooms except hers were empty. Hopefully no one was sleeping in one of them at this hour. His stomach rumbled. Lunch hour, maybe. You'd think a place that called itself an infirmary would feed a guy. He knocked on the first door he came to, wondering what the odds were that he could make it to the mess hall, get himself some food, and find an inconspicuous spot to eat it without being arrested by Fraiser's minions. He moved on to the next door and was about to knock when a door on the other side of the hallway opened.

"O'Neill."

Jack stepped into the room. Teal'c closed the door. Carter was sitting up on the bed in a set of scrubs, barefoot and looking relaxed, propped up by three or four pillows. "How're you feeling?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm fine, sir. I'm feeling like a bit of a slacker, in fact."

There was only one comfortable chair in the room, pulled up close to the bed, and Teal'c had just re-seated himself on it. Jack gestured at the foot of the bed. "May I?"

"Of course." Carter pulled up her feet to make room for him.

Jack sat down, trying not to stare at her painted toenails. His empty stomach gave another twinge. "They feed you?"

"Teal'c brought me breakfast here half an hour ago. I slept pretty late in the infirmary."

"Yeah, me, too."

"You were unconscious, O'Neill."

Jack shrugged. "Hey, rest is rest."

"I heard you call out," Carter said, grimacing. "Janet ran out of there so fast. And the nurses wouldn't let me go to you."

"Good for them," Jack said, pointedly. Recalling his own fugitive status, he cleared his throat.

"Are you also moving into a VIP suite?"

Jack's eyes met Teal'c's inquiring gaze. "Not exactly."

Carter frowned. "Did Janet release you?"

"Not exactly."

Teal'c narrowed his eyes and asked, enunciating very distinctly, "Does anyone on the medical staff in fact know where you are?"

"Daniel knows. He sends his love, by the way." Carter was looking at him sternly, but Jack was picturing her in that halter-top and those sandals. "He's worried about you."

"So he sent you to check up on me?"

Jack pursed his lips and looked at Carter's toes.

"'Not exactly', huh?"

When Jack looked up, Carter and Teal'c were exchanging a glance.

"I sent myself to check up on you, all right? It's called being a good team leader." Jack's empty stomach twisted. Oh, yeah, he was a terrific team leader, unless one of his team happened to offer him sex. Geez, what if it had been Carter on his doorstep? As she had been already infected, too, what might have happened? "You sure you're all right?" he said sharply.

She exchanged another look with Teal'c.

"And would you stop doing that?" Jack stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets.

Carter bit her lip. "I think I'm doing better than you are, sir."

Well, what was there to say to that? Jack pictured Daniel sagging down onto his entryway floor and winced. "Probably."

The phone on the nightstand next to Carter's bed rang. They all stared at it. It rang again.

"Why do I get the feeling this is going to be about you?" Carter asked as she reached for it. "Carter. Hi, Janet."

Jack's hands clenched into fists inside his pockets.

Carter's face changed abruptly. She looked up at Jack. "Daniel? No, I haven't seen Daniel."

Jack's hands came out of his pockets. He reached out and Carter handed him the phone. "Where have you looked? His office?"

"He's not in his office and he hasn't left the base. You’re not where you're supposed to be, either, Colonel."

"Save that. Try the mess, unless you actually fed him."

"We did. Come back to the infirmary and we'll feed you, too."

Jack pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at his hand, gripping the plastic receiver tightly enough to crack it. His mouth worked while his brain raced. He took a deep breath. "Try the gym." He reached past Teal'c and hung the receiver up.

"The gym, sir?" Carter was looking at him as if he were nuts. Which was a fair observation.

"What, you don't think Daniel works out?" His voice sounded calm enough. Jack inspected his hands. Not sweaty, unclenched, nary a tremor. He stared, remembering the feel of Daniel's sleekly muscled thighs under his palms, the iron in the arms that had held him, the steel in the fingers that had cradled his skull, the rock-hard ass he'd gripped to pull Daniel closer…

"O'Neill."

Jack raised his head. "He works out."

Both of Teal'c's eyebrows rose. "I am aware."

"Sure." Sure, a gym rat like Teal'c would be aware. They probably worked out together.

"Sir?"

"What?"

Carter furrowed her brow. "I mean, do _you_ feel like working out? I know I certainly don't."

Jack felt like sitting down and ringing for room service, actually. Like telling Carter to shove over and stealing some of her pillows and lying back, maybe asking Teal'c to dim the lights… He sighed. "No time for that. Gotta go find Daniel."

"You believe you know where Daniel Jackson is."

"Not exactly. But I know a place to look."

"Where? Colonel?" Carter shifted to the edge of the bed. "Give me a minute to get dressed."

"You stay where you are. Doc's already pissed off; I don't need you disobeying medical orders and me getting the blame for it." Jack opened the door.

"I will accompany you."

"No, you won't. If you want to go look for Daniel, more power to ya, but I'm flying solo on this one."

The last thing he saw before the door closed behind him was two mouths opening in protest. He shook his head and set out for the last place anyone would think of looking for Daniel. Or for Jack, himself, for that matter.

Jack headed for his office.

Daniel was there, slouched in Jack's desk chair. He sat up straighter when Jack walked in and closed the door behind him. Jack tapped on the name plate on the front edge of his desk. "Colonel O'Neill, I presume?"

"I can move."

Jack flapped his hand. "Why? You look so comfortable." In truth, Daniel looked anything but comfortable. He'd changed, too, back into street clothes before making his own escape from the infirmary. Jack turned away and sauntered over to a filing cabinet. He dragged a finger along the top of it and turned his hand over to inspect it.

"I would have looked for where you keep your dust cloth, but I was afraid I might aggravate my allergies."

Jack wiped imaginary dust off on his trousers. "Just as well. You look like a good sneeze would knock you over."

Daniel's brow furrowed. "Really? Because I feel…fine."

"Really?" Jack shot back at him. "No, I'm asking. Really?"

"Yes. More or less. You?"

"Less or more. Hopefully Carter at least is staying put, like I told her to."

"And, you know, Janet. Presumably."

"One might assume." Jack watched Daniel rub his forehead. "Headache?"

"Just a little. You?"

"Nah. Feel a little wobbly. Could be the lack of food. Why'd you leave the infirmary?"

"What?"

"They were feeding _you_. You could've stayed cozy in your bed and waited for lunch to be served."

Daniel straightened a stack of folders. "Other than the lack of food, you're feeling okay?"

"You're changing the subject."

"No, you changed the subject. We were talking about you."

Jack sniffed. "Little irritable."

Daniel blinked. "Me?"

"Aren't we talking about me? Irritable. Restless."

Daniel's eyebrows went up a millimeter, and his chest filled with air.

Jack raised a warning finger. "Don't…say it."

Daniel subsided, one side of his mouth quirking.

"Not sure my brain's completely up to snuff."

"How so?"

Jack spread his hands. "Jumps around sometimes."

Daniel bit his lip.

Jack sighed and motioned with his hand. "Irritable, can't concentrate…"

"So, just like every other day then?"

They exchanged slight smiles.

"Why don't you sit down before you fall down?"

Jack stepped forward and put his hand on the back of one of the chairs facing the desk. "Thank you, Colonel O'Neill."

"I can move," Daniel said again, but he clearly had no intention of moving a muscle.

Jack sat. "You don't feel that way?"

"What? Jumpy, jangly? No."

"Then why _did_ you leave the infirmary?" He watched as Daniel lowered his eyes and began fiddling with a pen. He noticed that Daniel's eyelids still looked bruised, although nothing like last night. "Why'd you come here? Seems strange if you were looking for me, because you knew where I was."

Daniel looked up. "How is Sam?"

Jack was going to accuse him of trying to change the subject again, but it was a legitimate question. "Doing better than me, according to her uninformed opinion."

"Uninformed, but not inaccurate?"

Jack shrugged one shoulder.

"Do we know any more about what happened to her?"

"I didn't ask. She didn't volunteer. _We_ might be happier not knowing."

"Well, no, I didn't mean…I just meant, it's interesting. Sam came in pretty much under her own power, right? Whereas you and I were lying there unconscious. And Janet released her to a VIP room. Whatever this is that's affected us -- and Janet's holding off on publicly stating what that might be until she gets all the tests back -- Sam seems to have gotten off relatively mildly."

"Yeah. That's so." And it _was_ interesting. Curious. Curiouser and curiouser.

"So what brings _you_ here, Jack?"

Jack frowned.

"You had an idea I might be here?" Daniel nodded to his own question and frowned back. "So, shouldn't this be the last place you'd want to be? Considering how eager you were to escape from the infirmary, i.e., me."

Jack pursed his lips and inspected the bruise on his thumbnail. It was a fair question, and a fair assessment of the state of affairs. So why _had_ he…?

"Jack?"

"I suppose I wanted to make sure you weren't passed out on my floor." Memories rose, choking him. He stood abruptly. " _Office_ floor," he managed to say. He retreated to the filing cabinet and leaned against it, shoving his hands into his pockets.

Daniel gaped at him. "I see what you meant about 'jumpy'."

Jack grimaced and looked away.

"I owe you an apology, Jack."

Jack turned back. "What?"

Daniel licked his lips nervously.

"No," Jack said loudly. "Not having this conversation."

Daniel blinked. "What conversation?"

"Whatever conversation… What are you apologizing for?"

"I'm pretty sure I infected you."

Jack squeezed his eyes shut. He could almost taste Daniel. "You didn't know. Didn't know what you were doing."

"I still…"

"No. Stop it." Jack opened his eyes and glared. "It's done. You're not to blame. We survived, damn it."

Daniel leaned his head against the chair back and exhaled. "Okay."

"I'm the one…" Jack pulled his hands out of his pockets and smacked his thigh. "I owe you the apology."

Daniel looked at him warily.

Jack felt the crawling, gnawing shame that he'd been pushing down since he awoke. Again (how many times was he going to relive it?) he saw, in his mind's eye, Daniel falling, crumpling to the floor. How could his first thought have been for himself? He knew he could be a bastard, but he'd never thought of himself as a selfish bastard before this. And a coward, to boot. "But I can't tell you what for."

Daniel was standing, coming around the desk, coming towards him, concern written all over his face. Jack held out a hand. "Don't."

Daniel stopped. "Whatever it is, it doesn't matter."

Jack bared his teeth. "Oh, it matters."

Daniel made a placating gesture. "I only meant, I forgive you."

Jack leaned back and let the wall hold him up. "You don't even know what I'm talking about."

"All right. All right, so if I knew, maybe I wouldn't be so forgiving. So don't tell me." Daniel moved closer again, and Jack didn't have the strength to stop him this time. "I forgive you." He held out his arms and Jack sagged into them.

It was almost too much. For a minute it was just relief, just leaning on Daniel's strength, just allowing himself to be…what? Loved, forgiven, accepted? Then Jack's nose, buried against Daniel's neck, registered how much Daniel smelled like the infirmary rather than smelling like Daniel.

In a flash, he was tasting Daniel on his tongue, the memory of Daniel from last night, and he became aware that here they both were, wearing last night's clothing, locked in an embrace…but everything had changed. Everything had changed last night, twice, and now the world had shifted again, back a little closer to where things used to be…but this moment was almost too much to bear, and he wasn't even sure what he meant by that.

It wasn't guilt he was feeling, or even regret, although he was sure he'd feel both those things again, and soon. He sure as hell wasn't aroused. He gave Daniel a squeeze, and got one back.

He realized that the jumpy, jangly feeling was gone. As soon as he realized that, it came back, and he wanted to pull away. Daniel stroked his back, making a soft sound that could have been one of protest. He wanted Jack to stay. Jack wanted to stay. To pull away. To stay. Pull away. Stay.

"Shh."

Jack burrowed closer.

His stomach rumbled.

Daniel laughed, with a edge of hysteria.

"Dammit," Jack groused. Daniel was edging away. "Timing."

Daniel put a hand on his shoulder and pressed down, much harder than necessary. "You know what we should do?"

"Is there food involved?" Jack's stomach rumbled again, hopefully.

"Yeah." Daniel smiled, but there was no humor in his eyes. "I think we should go back to the infirmary. And demand food."

"Will we be able to eat in restraints?"

Daniel rolled his eyes. "Jack."

That was better. "What? It's a reasonable question."

The hand on Jack's shoulder slid between his shoulder blades, urging him towards the door. "And after we eat…"

"We should demand showers. And clean BDUs."

"My thoughts exactly." Daniel swung the door open and they headed for the elevators.

Jack felt that hand between his shoulder blades all the way back to the infirmary, even though Daniel let his hand drop when they arrived at the elevator. It was like a warm spot.

Back in bed, hooked up to a vitals monitor but not, thank God, an IV, Jack shrugged his shoulders, wishing he could shrug off his irrelevant memories just as easily.

Daniel was getting the same treatment. And then here came one of the techs with cafeteria trays for them both.

Jack sighed and smushed his pillow under his back. He hated eating in bed. His spark of irritation bloomed into outright defiance. He put the tray aside and got up, maneuvering around the wire that connected his left hand to the monitor, until he could eat sitting in a chair. The folding table pulled down and over just far enough. The food was still hot. Small mercies. And there was pie, he was glad to see.

He glanced over at Daniel in the next bed. He hadn't pulled the curtain again, or let the nurse do it. Daniel was giving him an eyebrow worthy of Teal'c.

"I hate eating in bed," Jack griped.

"So noted," Daniel said, and turned his attention to his breakfast. Lunch. Whatever.

At the far end of the ward, a door opened and closed. Jack could see Carter, still in scrubs but with a bathrobe over them, Fraiser, and Major Coburn, whose hands were properly and perhaps somewhat awkwardly clasped behind his back, in low conversation. Janet patted his shoulder and stepped away, leaving Coburn and Carter to walk together toward the door. Coburn was already pulling out his elevator card, as if he were in a hurry to get out of there.

Jack glanced at Daniel. His eyebrows were up again.

"Did you see Carter's toenails?" Jack said, just to have something to say.

"Regretfully, no."

"Fire engine red."

Fraiser was coming their way. And she didn't look happy. Jack braced himself for his AWOL lecture. He'd take it like a man. He had it coming.

Fraiser checked through the chart at the foot of Jack's bed as she spoke to him.

"Colonel, I don't want to interrupt your lunch, but if I could see you in my office for a few minutes whenever you're done?"

Jack knew it was phrased as a request, but it had the force of an order.

"Sure, Doc."

She flashed him a quick smile that was only, he judged seventy percent fake, which was an improvement, and glanced over at Daniel. Her once-over was quick but keen. She patted Daniel's foot, turned on her heel, and strode away. There were several other in-patients, and Jack could hear her gentle voice questioning them, around the corner.

He met Daniel's thoughtful gaze. He was holding his fork in midair and had apparently forgotten to chew.

Daniel said, "So, Coburn, huh?"

Jack felt himself on very shaky ground. They needed to talk, maybe, eventually, but not here and not now. And what kind of bombshell did Fraiser have to tell him when they were alone?

"Coburn, yeah," Jack said, meeting Daniel's eyes and trying for casual. All he could think about was the way Daniel had felt when they'd hugged a few minutes earlier, back in Jack's office. He wouldn't let himself think any further back than that.

"Sam told me that..." There was a pause during which Jack watched Daniel mentally backing and filling. "She told me something about her symptoms. She told me it was Coburn who was involved. That they'd have to interview him."

"Fraiser's not holding him, and he didn't look sick to me."

"No. He didn't." Daniel was thinking hard.

Jack tried to ignore him. He finished his lunch, but his appetite was pretty much gone.

"Jack--" Daniel began, looking embarrassed but resolute.

"Gotta run. Don't let them take my pie, okay?" Jack wiped his mouth and crumpled the napkin in a ball. "See if you can score us a pot of coffee, if we're going to be trapped here all afternoon."

He left Daniel scowling and headed for Fraiser's office.

~~~

He passed her on the way, chatting up a member of SG-10 who'd caught an alien rash in the swamps of some planet. Apparently not contagious, thank goodness. Fraiser glanced his way, and soon enough he heard her behind him.

He forced himself not to tilt the chair back. He put his hands in his pockets.

She sat down at her desk, but she didn't reach for the keyboard this time.

"So, Coburn, huh?" Jack said. Sometimes a good offense was better than any defense.

"I intend to preserve Sam's confidence, Jack. She might choose to talk to you, she might not. I can tell you that Major Coburn appears to be exhibiting no symptoms, but agreed to stay under observation in a VIP suite for twenty-four hours."

"Hope it's the one with the Xbox," Jack muttered.

Fraiser ignored his aside. "But that's not what I wanted to tell you." She looked worried. "I appreciate how forthcoming you were in your interview earlier, before your own infection became evident. Based on what you told me about Daniel's behavior, I was able to predict your response, and to a certain extent, Sam's, although the pathogen clearly acts somewhat differently on the female body. I'm fairly certain I've isolated the source of the infection from the blood samples I took from the four of you. Teal'c showed no sign of exposure whatsoever, by the way. Preliminarily, I believe it's a kind of fungus; something Sam and Daniel apparently ate when their hosts offered them refreshments at the city center on PR3-191."

"City center," Jack sniffed. "More like an overgrown teepee."

That got him a smile. "In any case, the way the organism appeared in your blood differed significantly from its appearance in Sam and Daniel's. I think it's safe to say that Daniel infected you."

"Now you're making me curious what Coburn's bloodwork shows."

"That's confidential, Colonel, as you know." But she smiled as she said it. "I'm prepared to rule out infection for Major Coburn, but if he presents a risk of contagion, I'll take the appropriate measures. Which are no concern of yours. But here's what I wanted to tell you." She sighed. "Daniel's account of his evening at your house has big gaps in it compared to what you told me. He doesn't remember anything much past arriving at your door." Jack raised his eyebrows. "He told me he remembers going to see you, looking forward to a quiet evening, and the next thing he remembers is waking up in the infirmary."

She met his eyes, looking solemn. "I can't tell you how to handle this, Jack. But I wanted you to know."

"He's talked to Carter. He said it was only for a second, but he knew about Coburn."

"I don't know how much she chose to tell him. But he's very good at drawing inferences, as you know."

Jack sat back in his chair and closed his eyes. If Daniel didn't remember what happened.... If Carter and Daniel had talked much at all.... Hell, if Daniel had had feelings that he hadn't shared with Fraiser that had prompted him to show up at Jack's house in the first place....

Shit. What a mess.

He opened his eyes and leaned forward. "Thanks for telling me, Doc. You're right. I have to clear this up somehow with him."

"If I can help in any way...."

He forced a smile that he hoped conveyed gratitude, and went back out on the ward. He wanted nothing more than to bolt; maybe grab an entire pie from the cafeteria and make off with it. But he had several more hours under observation to go.

And he had to figure out what the fuck to do about Daniel. He squared his shoulders and headed back to his bed.

Daniel had probably eaten his pie while he was gone.

~~

Amazingly, the pie was still there, all by its lonesome, a piece of lattice-crust cherry under its neat and undisturbed cling-wrap. Next to it on the foldout table was a big gold carafe and a plastic mug. The sheets had been changed on his bed.

Daniel was reading, knees up under the blankets, brow knit, a cup of coffee on his own folding table, which was pushed to one side. His monitor beeped along quietly to itself, green numbers and lines scrolling hypnotically. Jack sat down in the plastic chair between their beds and pulled in the pie. He poured himself some coffee as a nurse came over to attach him once again to the leads. He once again comforted himself with the fleeting thought that at least it wasn't an IV.

Daniel let him eat three bites of the pie in peace and enjoy two swallows of the hot black coffee, which was so good he suspected it was from Fraiser's private stash (yeah, he was THAT OBVIOUS if she was giving him the good stuff today out of sheer pity; gotta work on that, O'Neill....).

Without looking up or even turning his head, Daniel said quietly, "I think we're still infected. Maybe just a bit."

Jack made himself swallow what had been until then a delicious bite of distracting sweetness.

"Yeah?" He put down his fork.

"I know we can't say all there is to say until later and maybe never. I'm not entirely okay with that, but. Well. It is what it is. I'm just thinking that unless you are having a wildly different experience of this alien whatever-it-is than I am, that you.... felt something.... In your office. In that. Um. Hug. Which means, we're probably still under the influence."

Jack sighed and made himself think back. He'd been conscious of not wanting to let go, of wanting to hang on to Daniel with everything he had. But after what had happened? Wasn't that to be expected? Maybe even normal? Nothing to do with the goddamned fungus? Everything to do with how he'd always felt?

He was suddenly angry. Angry at the constraints on their current conversation, angry at being trapped here, angry at the Air Force, angry that he and Daniel couldn't just... Just.

But maybe there was no "could". In any scenario other than this embarrassing one. Maybe Daniel's come-on had been solely due to the alien aphrodisiac, and the barista at Starbucks, the librarian at Colorado State or the waiter at that neat little Thai restaurant a block from Daniel's apartment would have been equally plausible targets for Daniel's artificial libido. Jack just happened to be in the way at the right time.

Jack couldn't afford to kid himself. He blew out a breath and poured himself some more coffee.

"We can talk later," he said casually. "No reason not to. Maybe at your place, tomorrow, when Fraiser springs us. Until then, let's let her decide if we're infected. Or how bad it is. Me, I'm not so sure. But I'm not the expert."

Daniel sighed, long and gusty. Jack's peripheral vision caught him taking off his glasses, letting them dangle precariously between two fingers, as with the same hand he rubbed his eyes.

~~~

As the little mower purred to a halt, Jack let go of the kill switch, stretched his shoulders, and brushed some grass clippings off his arm in the sudden quiet. The sun was warm on the back of his neck, and the breeze was pleasantly cool. He sniffed the sharp, sweet smell of the cut grass and regarded his handiwork with a pleasing sense of accomplishment. He owned a bigger riding mower, but today he'd thoroughly enjoyed using the smaller one to place the perfect infield-style stripes diagonally across the back lawn. It was just the sort of mild, monotonous exercise he had needed after two days cooped up in the infirmary. Just the ticket.

He'd stowed the mower and the weed trimmer back in the garage, and had brought his freshly opened beer back out into the sunlight of the deck when the cell phone rang.

It was Daniel. Of course.

"I hope you're outdoors somewhere," Jack said.

Daniel chuckled. "If I had to guess, I'd say you just mowed the back yard."

Jack closed his eyes. On another day he would have laughed at the evidence of their virtual telepathy, but today, it hit him a little hard. Daniel didn't seem to notice his reaction.

"...And so you're feeling self righteous about yourself, accomplishing a chore. Me? I'm actually reading, but I'm doing it on the balcony. So that counts as outdoors."

"Yes. It counts," Jack said, feeling like he was already floundering to keep up. Not good. He knew with certainty that Daniel had called to tell him he was coming over so they could talk. He knew it was inevitable after what had happened. And when they did talk, Jack had to have his A-game ready.

It would be nice, of course, if he could have used the two days of down time to figure out what the hell to say.

Daniel had paused, and now he was talking again. "So, um, I thought I'd come over if you weren't busy."

"Come on over. You can admire my grass-cutting skills in person."

"On my way."

And Daniel ended the call without further ado. Jack didn't think he'd imagined the uncertainty that crept into Daniel's voice, there at the end.

Daniel would be over before Jack could get through a shower and a cleanup, unless he hustled much faster than he was in the mood for. Greeting Daniel fresh from the shower didn't seem like the right thing to do today. It would seem like he'd gone to a lot of trouble, was perhaps trying to impress Daniel or something. Would make this visit more of a big deal than they were both trying to pretend it wasn't.

Jack drank some more beer and looked out over the beautifully sculpted grass. He'd better think of something quick.

The beer was empty but Jack was no closer to figuring out his script when he heard Daniel's car in the driveway. He scrubbed his hands through his hair and stood. Daniel would come around the house and find him any second now. Daniel wouldn't knock on the front door. He knew Jack's habits too well.

And there. Right on cue. Daniel, wearing shorts and sandals and a black T-shirt that looked like the kind that went under the uniform. He was jingling his keys. When he saw Jack he stopped walking, and put the keys in his pocket.

"You want a beer? Or there's some of those wine cooler things Doc Fraiser left over here."

"No, thanks, I'm fine for now." Hearing the sound of his own voice seemed to reanimate Daniel. He walked up to the deck, taking the stairs briskly.

Jack went over to the boom box on the table under the window and turned it on. There was a ballgame. He listened for a minute, then found the classical station and turned the volume up.

Daniel had taken one of the chairs.

As Jack pulled the other one closer, he said, "Carter's doing fine too. Have you talked to her?" He sat down.

Daniel looked distracted. He was studying something in the distance, over the fence, as he answered. "Yes, I talked to her yesterday. It looks as if she might be kind of, um, dating Major Coburn now. A little bit."

"Do tell," Jack said, smiling. He thought about the red nail polish. Good if someone could get something out of this.

"And I was right about the lingering infection," Daniel continued, catching Jack with a sharp gaze that made his Carter-induced smiled fade. "Janet showed me the graphs she did based on our bloodwork. She's probably going to want to interview us again, in fact."

"Oh, that's just peachy," Jack said. More needles. More experiments. It was one of the things he hated the most about this job. He thought back to that lingering hug in his office, when Daniel and he still had hours to go before they were cleared. How Daniel's touch had calmed his jangly nerves, seemed to be the only balm he needed. That was some powerful fungus, there. He shuddered, thought about another beer, but figured Daniel had the right of it. They'd better keep their wits about them. Under the circumstances.

Daniel was frowning at him.

"You start," Jack said, pitching his voice low, putting his elbows on his knees. He made himself look up and meet Daniel's gaze.

"Why do I have to start?" he said, whining just a little.

"Because you always start!" At Daniel's frown, he amended, "And you're so good at it!"

Daniel didn't look mollified, but he said, "Okay. I'll start. Mostly I want to apologize. I'm almost certain that I made a pass at you the other night. But I don't remember. I apologize for doing that and I came over partly to make sure you weren't upset about it."

"I'm not upset," Jack said, and even as he said it he realized it was his confirmation that Daniel had been right about what happened. "And I wasn't. Upset."

Daniel sighed and leaned back. He looked down now, instead of boring into Jack with his eyes. "I already apologized for infecting you, but I still feel badly about that."

"Now, that I was upset about. That was embarrassing!"

A flash of a smile, there and gone. "So I heard from Teal'c. Good thing Janet's nurses only gossip among themselves."

"The infirmary's not exactly a place I'd ever considered as a location for the throes of ecstasy."

"Yeah, and all because of an alien aphrodisiac fungus. That's my favorite recipe for ecstasy, for sure." Daniel shook his head.

Jack relaxed a little. If they could kid around about it, maybe it would be all right. Somehow. "How did you figure it out?"

"That I approached you inappropriately? From talking to Sam."

Jack nodded. "Well, I hope her evening ended better than ours did."

At that, Daniel blushed. It was a total surprise, totally at odds with Daniel's poised humor so far, and it made Jack do a double take. Under his scrutiny, Daniel got up and went to the railing. He put his hands in his pockets, then took them out again. He turned around to speak.

"I also find myself wanting to know exactly what happened. What I did. But the last thing you'll want to do is talk about it."

"Why do you need details from me? I bet you figured out most of them already. Spending all that time going over infection rates and so forth with Fraiser."

Daniel folded his arms. "Oh, I've imagined all kinds of things. Janet was reluctant to speculate, actually. At least out loud to me. And like you said, it's embarrassing. I guess knowing what really happened between us that night would prevent me from continuing to imagine something much worse."

Jack looked down at his interlaced fingers. What he knew was right, and what he wanted -- those two things were absolutely at odds today. Two poles, separated by more than a world. He felt more than usually trapped by his duty. By his uniform. And by his own shame. He owed Daniel an apology, too, but he didn't see his way clear to offering it without giving up a lot more detail than he was comfortable with. On the other hand, was it fair that Fraiser knew exactly what had happened, and yet Daniel didn't?

He looked up. Daniel was waiting, looking at him, looking receptive, but also extremely worried. Jack was reluctantly engulfed in a wash of warm memories. He wanted, so badly, to tell Daniel everything. To recount for him the joyous way he'd accepted Daniel's impetuous overture. To tell him, in loving detail, exactly how much pleasure he'd gotten from sucking Daniel's dick, from making him come, from taking him to a pinnacle of physical sensation and giving him that glorious release. To tell Daniel that he loved him. So much. That he had wanted for years what was offered that night. That he was the absolute opposite of upset about it.

But Daniel had done what he'd done because he'd been drugged. He hadn't been acting on his own. He'd done things he would never have done, otherwise. If he'd been sober. If he'd been himself. Jack couldn't take advantage of that. Daniel needed forgiveness and reassurance more than he needed some kind of messy information dump of Jack's own private, very forbidden desires.

Jack met Daniel's eyes without flinching.

"There's no 'worse things' to imagine. We're solid. I'll tell you what happened if you insist, but what you really need to know is that you did absolutely nothing that would make me think any less of you, or make me offended, or embarrassed, or anything else that's bad. It's a downer that you and Carter got infected on that planet, and it wasn't exactly fun that I came down with it too, but I don't want you to worry about what you did. Or worry about how I feel. We're fine, Daniel. It's okay."

Daniel blew out a breath. He contemplated his toes, met Jack's eyes for a moment, keenly, and turned back to the railing.

Jack figured that was his cue to go get himself another beer and Daniel a soft drink in a can. Caffeine was always good. If Daniel stayed and they got through this conversation, he'd put on some coffee. Cook something, or order in. That would be nice, to sit and watch a game or a movie, Daniel there beside him on the sofa.

Yeah. He had desires. But really they were quite simple. He squared his shoulders and went out to the deck again. He could do this.

~~

Jack sighed with pleasure and put his empty take-out carton on the coffee table. The game was almost over, his team had a comfortable lead, and Daniel seemed to be okay.

He hadn't pressed Jack for any more details. He'd accepted the Coke, admired the mowing job, and agreed eagerly to a suggestion of chess and some takeout. Then he'd let the subject of their encounter drop completely.

He'd ordered while Jack had showered, and a couple of games and the food seemed to have changed the mood. Jack didn't feel awkward any more, and neither did Daniel. They, it seemed, were okay. Back to good, as the saying went.

Daniel had accepted a glass of wine with the Chinese. They ate out of the cartons, on the coffee table, no formality, no awkwardness.

It was nice.

It wouldn't take long, Jack was sure, to put this deep yearning of his back where it belonged again. He could put away his intense memories of Daniel's taste, Daniel's skin -- lock them up, only pull them out on special occasions, late nights, when he was alone, when he couldn't take it any more. He'd had a taste of forbidden desire. It was more than a lot of people got. More than he'd ever expected. He was okay with that.

It was okay. They were okay.

Daniel was swirling his third of a glass of red, watching the little vortex he was creating. He seemed comfortable. It was on this very couch, just a few days ago...

No. Better not. Button that up. Wait. Save it. For later. Much later. When Daniel wasn't here to see.

Daniel looked up and said to Jack, "Why don't you want to tell me what I did here?"

Jack's eyes got wide. "Here? On this sofa?"

"Was it on this sofa?" Daniel looked around the room, cataloguing its familiar items, his gaze sliding across the dark windows, discounting the night outside, taking its safety for granted, concerned only about what he could see here. In the room. Then he met Jack's eyes again, accusing.

"You said you'd tell me if I insisted."

"Yeah, but, I gotta tell you, I don't know what purpose that would serve, Daniel. We're okay. I meant that. You know I meant it."

"I know," Daniel said, holding Jack's gaze, and Jack could see he did. That he was okay. Feeling like he'd dodged a bullet, Jack watched Daniel's mouth as he quit tilting his glass and brought it to his lips, draining all that was left of the wine in one long swallow.

Jack was transfixed, watching his throat, his shoulders, under that black shirt.

Daniel was putting the glass down. He looked around the room, as if taking stock.

"I guess I got what I came for. Most of it, anyway." He flashed a transient smile. "Thank you for the reassurance," he said. He got to his feet.

Jack followed, as Daniel went up the stairs. They were in the hall. Daniel was going. His hand was on the doorknob.

They were in the hall. Jack closed his eyes.

Daniel, leaning him against the door, kissing him like Jack was a banquet and he was the guest of honor. Daniel, pressing against him, wanting more even though he'd just come, even though Jack had just sucked him off, and Jack, trying to get him to the bedroom, pushing him.....

Jack opened his eyes. Daniel was looking at him, arms folded, again. Daniel licked his lips, looked away, looked back, and he stretched out a hand and touched the panels of the door. Brushed them, and met Jack's eyes again.

"What?" Jack said. He couldn't.... He didn't....

"I know I said I got what I wanted from the conversation. But. How did I infect you?"

" _What_?"

"You're repeating yourself. How did I infect you? You did say you'd tell me details if I insisted." Hands at his sides now, clenching and unclenching. And the blush again, spreading up this time, from his neck, painting his cheeks, his cheekbones. "I think I'm insisting."

_Oh, shit_.

"Jack. Janet said she was comfortable saying that I had infected you, and that you could tell me the details. So I'm asking. _How did I infect you_?"

Daniel had a hand on his shoulder. Jack closed his eyes, focusing on that touch. Daniel was squeezing him, not too hard. He had a right to know. After all. Jack swallowed hard.

"You came over. You were happy. So happy. You wanted... me. You wanted ... us to do ... things."

"Things." Daniel's voice was gentle, urging in a cautious way. His diplomatic voice. So unlike himself that night. That night when he hadn't been himself. At all.

"You were drugged. I didn't know that. You wanted me. You asked me to.... You asked me for fellatio. That's how you infected me." Jack made himself open his eyes.

Daniel was staring at him, looking incredulous. Maybe he didn't know Jack knew that word. Ha.

"We got this far, to the door, before you collapsed. Your fever was high; off the charts. I had to take you in. God, Daniel, I'm so sorry. I should have known. I should have known you'd never have done that in your right mind. It's my fault." Jack put his hand over Daniel's, where Daniel was gripping his shoulder. "It was never your fault. You shouldn't worry about this. You didn't know what you were doing."

"But you did!" Daniel blurted, and then he was coming closer, putting his other arm around Jack, just as they'd done in Jack's office two days ago, just like that, except it wasn't base, and it wasn't daytime, and Fraiser wouldn't have let them go if they were still infected, and Jack was so, so tired and Daniel smelled so good.

"Yeah, I did. I should have known better. I was a heel, Daniel. No getting around it. I took advantage of you when you were sick, and then I was callous enough to feel sorry for myself when I figured out what was happening to you. None of it was your fault, Daniel. It's all on me."

Jack held him close, resting his face in Daniel's neck. He hung on for dear life and hoped they were okay because maybe he actually wasn't after all. Quite so much.

This was really hard, this buttoning up his feelings again, putting them back in a box. Because, Daniel. Daniel, warm and real in his arms, and smelling so good, like coffee and ginger and laundry soap and sunlight.

"Jack," Daniel was saying, and Daniel was nudging his face aside with his own face, with those incredible cheekbones that Jack wasn't noticing, not now, not ever, and Daniel was ... kissing him.

Kissing him.

And Jack was kissing him back, unwillingly, willingly, confusedly, happily, who knew, Jesus.

And Daniel pulled back, away from Jack's mouth, and he said, "You wanted to. When I--"

And it wasn't clear what Daniel's sentence would have been because they were kissing some more, and when they came up for air again Jack said, "Duh!"

And Daniel smiled -- Jack felt it in the kiss, which he was totally doing his part with, now, by God, and they kissed and kissed like it was the first time, which for Daniel, Jack acknowledged, it actually was, which was a good thing.

"And how can you..." Daniel was saying, between kisses, and Jack tried to listen but it was very distracting... "How can you apologize to me for a feeling you had? That's totally unnecessary. Especially since it was a feeling of wanting to, of not wanting to, give up... what you had just..." Daniel. Daniel was willing, now, and happy and in his right mind! Kissing Jack. Jesus. Kissing Jack and lecturing him. Heaven.

Daniel pulled back again and said, "You didn't know I was drugged, you wanted to, you did things, you want me..."

And Jack said, "I love you, you get that, right?"

And when he backed up enough to peel Daniel's hand off his hip and pull on it, leading him down the hall to the bedroom, Daniel's smile was like sunlight.

"I get that, yeah," he said. "So enough with the apologizing."

And then they were at Jack's bed, and Daniel was pulling Jack's shirt off, up and over his head, and smiling at him and ruffling up his damp hair even more than the shirt had.

Daniel was saying, "And, something else. I know you; I see now how you think. It would always have to be me, making the first move, wouldn't it. Because of how seriously you take the chain of command. How you interpret it as applying to me."

Daniel pulled his own shirt over his head and then they were close again, skin to skin, touching and nuzzling, and Daniel was hard inside his shorts, and the stupid piece of clothing just had to go. Now. Jack backed away to sit on the bed, his fingers quick on Daniel's belt, pushing fabric down those long muscled legs so Daniel could step out of them and step quickly back, his hands in Jack's hair. Just like the other night, except so much better.

So much better. Jack cupped his balls, touched him, ran admiring fingers over the quickly hardening shaft, kissed along it, listening for Daniel's gasp of surprised pleasure.

"Oh, it's not just me," Jack said between kisses. "Hammond takes it seriously too. Count on that."

"So it would always have had to be me," Daniel murmured, and then he stopped talking, must have lost his train of thought, as Jack tasted him again, slid the long weight of him onto his tongue. He moved his hands around to grip Daniel's ass, making its muscles clench, making Daniel moan.

And Jack closed his eyes and moaned, too, getting a rhythm going, loving this, getting to do this, no hurry now, nothing to do but enjoy.

Until Daniel said his name and pushed at his cheek. Jack pulled back enough to look up and meet Daniel's eyes, his hands resting just where the curve of ass began, Daniel's cock still resting just inside his mouth. It tasted so good, felt so good. He didn't want to stop.

"God, Jack, you look...." Daniel said, wonder in his voice, and he ran the back of his knuckles over Jack's cheek. The backs of his thighs were quivering.

He stepped back. Jack took a second to get out of his own shorts, as Daniel sat down beside him, and they were wrapped tight again, kissing, and then lying back, full length on Jack's bed, kissing more, a warm glorious impossible full-length slide of skin.

"I had to make the first move. Or it would never get made. Even though you love me back," Daniel said, finally finishing his thought from earlier. He paused to search Jack's face, and seemed to get distracted by what he saw. He ran gentle fingertips along Jack's eyebrow, traced his cheekbone. He kept going, touching Jack's neck and the line of his shoulder. Jack had seen him this intent on what he was touching before, but usually it was some offworld treasure. It was a new thing to have that examining, admiring gaze turned on himself.

"That's right. I tried not to think about it much. It was too off limits." He stroked Daniel's back and pressed closer. He nudged his leg between Daniel's. Their cocks were pressed together, a delicious buzz of intense sensation at the slightest movement. Daniel was so warm.

"Think about what?" Daniel said, with a not-quite-smile, and Jack knew that Daniel knew, but simply wanted to hear him say it.

"Think about you. How much I wanted you. How much I wished for this even though I knew I could never have it. That's why I was so pissed at myself, for letting that kind of regret outweigh what I should have been thinking about the other night when you passed out."

And a new wave of sheer wanting rushed through Jack, and he shifted his weight, rolling. Daniel took his weight willingly, opening his legs, holding him tight. Jack blearily wondered if it would ever get old, boring -- kissing Daniel like this, having permission. He kinda doubted it.

The next time they came up for air, Daniel said, "Again, no need to apologize for something that amounts to a random feeling of guilt. And you know I was thinking about it too. About you, and how much I was attracted. I thought about it all that time. Never letting myself hope for it."

"Well, I guess we have some lost time to make up for, then, don't we."

Daniel smiled at him, pure delight and pure evil all rolled into one gorgeous expression. "I guess that means we should go for maximum efficiency here."

Jack laughed outright, because he could suspect what that meant, as Daniel pushed his shoulder and turned them and then braced himself on Jack's hip to reverse his body in the bed.

Lips against the crease of a thigh, cheek brushing Daniel's sac, legs tangling with arms, and an awkward hitching for balance. All that suddenly overwhelmed by sensation, everything shared and doubled as he took Daniel in his mouth again -- even the small rhythmic motions of their hips mirrored as they sent each other eagerly toward climax.

Daniel swallowed him, moaning, and stilled, muscles rigid, as he came seconds later himself, filling Jack's mouth again, and Jack held tight and squeezed his eyes shut and couldn't believe his good luck.

After a while he managed to turn himself around, leaving both of them sprawling upside down on the bed, their feet tangling into the pillows, their heads on the rucked-up blankets and sheets.

"Dual orgasms. Reciprocal blow jobs. Very efficient," Jack said, thinking how Daniel was even more handsome like this, hair tousled, features relaxed by pleasure, all worry and rumination driven far away.

I made him look like that, Jack thought, pleased. That's on me.

"We're good together here too," Daniel said, pulling him close. "Somehow I find that very easy to believe. And in a strange way, I can't be sorry about any of it, not even to regret getting sick, or even making you sick. Because here we are. We have this now."

"Yeah," Jack said, and closed his eyes to revel in Daniel's touch, Daniel's warmth, and Daniel holding him tight.


End file.
